


Shared Blood

by Dagron



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: F/F, Illustrations, Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)'s A+ Parenting, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:27:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27527623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dagron/pseuds/Dagron
Summary: During her rebuilding efforts, Scorpia discovers a hidden mine under the Fright Zone, and finds a matter most expressly for the attention of Adora and Catra.A long held secret is brought to light, and a decision needs to be made.
Relationships: Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Perfuma/Scorpia (She-Ra)
Comments: 59
Kudos: 221
Collections: She-Ra





	1. Beneath the Earth

**Author's Note:**

> My partner hates the very idea of this story because it involves the Horde being very guilty of having a work camp full of prisoners, Shadow Weaver being awful, and young children implied to be living in perilous conditions. If any of these are likely to cause issue for you, you have been warned. Also Content Warning for a panic attack in chapter 2 and death mentions. 
> 
> All that said - I hope you'll still find plenty of fluff. Scorpia and Perfuma are especially cute, and Finn is a darling.

* * *

**Beneath the Earth**

* * *

The Fright Zone has been called that for a long time. It earned its name long before Hordak ever crash landed in its western reaches. Hordak's Horde was initially a ragtag group of mercenaries and thugs. He strong-armed them into a semblance of organisation. As their numbers grew, they installed miles of pipes and valves deep into the ground, obscuring what has always been a geothermically active and austere terrain. Its deep ravines, unpredictable geysers, and bubbling mud pits, combined with the local eco-system's proclivity for sudden thunderstorms, meant it was never a terrain for the faint of heart. Scorpia was always aware that the name was old, but she learns the truth of how the Horde changed the land from her time chipped under Prime. The back of her neck itches at the memory. The experience of Horde Prime's neural network is hard to describe to those who were never chipped. Scorpia finds that trying to explain how she learnt the truth of Hordak's conquest of the Scorpion kingdom is like trying to explain how to cast a net to someone who has never heard of fish... Now that was an overwhelming conversation.  
  
Still, knowing why the Fright Zone is called that does nothing to explain the fear gripping at her throat as she paces atop its Northern Tower. She forces herself to take deep breaths, to cast her eyes around at the scenery below, she voices reassurance upon reassurance to herself as she wrings her pincers around one another repeatedly. The Fright Zone looks very different from how it used to be. What was once dry and barren sands now has grasses, ferns, and giant phosphorescent mushrooms. Colourful shrubs grow out of every crevice and wall. New Geysers have appeared, creating colourful pools and mists in the middle of what were once main thoroughfares. Even the tower she is standing on has vines and roses snaking along its walls. She can hear the happy chirp of insects and other critters bringing a life to the Fright Zone that wouldn't have been there without She-Ra.  
  
Oh gods, Scorpia really prays that She-Ra won't be making an appearance today.  
  
"Oof!" Feeling a sudden pain in her abdomen, Scorpia presses her left pedipalp gingerly against her tummy. She feels the push against her arm and smiles. Right. Her fretting must have woken them. "Hey little one, it'll be alright. Don't worry."  
  
Scorpia forces herself to sit on the nearby bench, installed at Perfuma's insistence, and sings until she feels the presence in her tummy settle at the sound of her voice. It's soothing, and by the time Scorpia finally spots the colourful wings coming in from the east, she's smiling in earnest.  
  
She's not long had a visit from Entrapta, but it has been too long since Scorpia last saw the third member of the first edition Super Pal Trio. Peace has done wonders for the young commander Scorpia once strived so hard to impress. Tales of Catra's deeds in space, alongside Adora, Glimmer and Bow, are already the stuff of plays and songs across all Etheria. Scorpia has no doubts that more ballads are being spun about the Best Friend Squad's latest outing. They only returned a few days ago. If the matter hadn't been so important, Scorpia would have gladly let them rest up longer before summoning Catra and Adora to her home.  
  
The Pegasus glides elegantly across the brass-coloured sky. She thinks she hears laughter.

Scorpia stands once she starts to make out the shape of Swiftwind's horn, the wave of Adora's hair, the notes of red that are still Catra's go-to colour. She waves and greets them as they make their descent, her fretting forgotten at the sight of her friends and their warm smiles.  
  
Swiftwind, as always, has that gleam in his eye as Scorpia hugs his neck in greeting. Scorpia and Adora share a nod as the latter helps her girlfriend leap off her mount's back.  
"How was your journey?" Scorpia grins at the girls while offering a delighted Swiftwind an apple from her pack.  
  
"Delightful," Catra replies, before giving the Pegasus some side-eye. "Unless you mean the trip from Brightmoon to here rather than our latest jaunt into space. I swear if I hear the words loop-de-loop one more time..."  
  
"You dunno wha'tya mishing!" Swiftwind tries to reply with his mouth full.  
  
Adora laughs and shoves his muzzle aside.  
"We can do some loop-de-loops later, Swifty, just you and I." The blonde grins ruefully as she reaches up to scratch behind his ears. "I missed you too."  
  
Scorpia takes a moment to take the two in as Catra makes some pointed comment. Melog, sat upon Catra's shoulder as they eye Swiftwind's wings, leaps down to the ground before regaining their more usual size. Catra's mismatched eyes twinkle as she strokes the feline's cooling mane. The circlet on her brow looks right, and her hair has grown out down to her shoulder-blades now. There's an openness to her smile that was never there before, matched by a confidence in both her posture and the twinkle in her eye that speaks now of a woman free from her past. It suits her well, Scorpia thinks, and wishes her younger self could have imagined it.  
  
As for Adora, there's a looseness to her that was never there during the war. Her gaze is bright and her smile easy, her back still straight as a soldier's when she stands but gains an easy swagger when she leans one way or the other. It's emphasized by the looseness of her blouse as she wraps an arm around Catra's shoulders and looks Scorpia up and down.  
  
"Micah did mention you were expecting," Adora says with a twinkle in her eye. It pulls Scorpia out of her contemplation. The two women have their overnight satchels off Swiftwind's flanks and are now at her side. There's no mistaking the happiness in the couple's knowing smiles. "Congratulations."  
  
"Yeah," Catra chimes in, arching a brow and crossing her arms with a smirk. "Still can't believe you're beating Sparkles and Bow to having a kid first. Even Netossa was betting on them, since they got married before you and all."  
  
"Ah, gee, guys..." Scorpia rubs her head as Melog leaps up at her to lick her face. Their mane flickers purple for a moment, and if Scorpia hadn't known, she wouldn't have thought anything of it. She looks up at Catra a moment longer before looking down at her toes. "You know how it can be sometimes, these things just happen."  
  
Adora has the good grace to try and hide her snicker. Catra however...  
"Hey, what's up with you? It's not like you to be this nervous Scorp'... Is this about whatever you asked us over about?" Catra's touch on Scorpia's arm is gentle. Scorpia sighs. She should've known she couldn't hide her trepidation from her.  
  
"Hey, Swifty, buddy!" Scorpia calls to Adora's mount. "How about you go down to help Grizzlor with the new pastures we're setting up? It's down by the larger lake."  
  
With Swiftwind happily away, Scorpia waves for Adora, Catra and Melog to follow her into the building.  
  
"You are nervous about what you're wanting to tell us!" Adora exclaims, startled. She frowns as she makes her way down the steps. "This is the old prison block, isn't it? Why did you ask us to meet you here?"  
  
"I'm half surprised this building is still standing to be honest. I thought you would have had it torn down once you emptied it of its prisoners." Catra's steps are quiet, despite the boots she now wears. Melog mews at her side.  
  
"Yeah, about that... Turns out the basement of this place goes deep, real deep." Scorpia replies. She pulls out a tablet from her satchel, double checks a reading before replacing it as they near the lift. "Shortly after you guys left on your last voyage, Perfuma and I found out that there were still people living there, crazy right?" She chuckles awkwardly, nudging the lever on the lift's command box once everyone is aboard.  
  
The lift starts moving with a sudden lurch, and gets about a floor down before it creaks to a stop. With a quick zap of lightning, Scorpia gets it moving again. They've not really had the manpower to maintain the electricity grid in this part of the Fright Zone much.  
  
"Do you remember the foundry?" Scorpia says, turning to Catra. She has her arms held out and her tail swaying. The lift mustn't be doing her enduring vertigo many favours. At Catra's confused glance, Scorpia elaborates. "The one for that armoury request we couldn't figure out where to get the materials from? You ended up asking Shadow Weaver."  
  
"Oh, that place." Catra's recognition is short lived. "Wait, isn't the foundry in the next building over?"  
  
"Well, it turns out that the mine they were getting their ore from is under this old prison block."  
  
"Wait... Those people you said were still living here..." Adora's catching on quick. Horror is coating her features as Scorpia nods. "There were prisoners of the Horde working in the mines under this very building for more than a year after the Horde was defeated?!"  
  
Melog's growl echoes Catra's gasp of dismay. Scorpia gives them a moment to let that information sink in. The lift reaches the ground floor of the cell blocks.  
  
"It turns out, a lot of them were subjects of the Scorpion Kingdom taken prisoner when Hordak took the Black Garnet," Scorpia explains. She smiles as she leads them through a small door into a service corridor. "It's been nice reconnecting with my people. A lot of them were easy enough to relocate to Horror Hall or Scorpion Hill while we continue repurposing the Fright Zone's architecture to more suitable accommodations."  
  
They reach a door with a secure keyboard input lock. Scorpia's pincers turn the deadbolt with ease. The electronic password takes a bit more work. Scorpia pulls out her tablet.  
"Here let me get that for you," Catra says as Scorpia smiles and shows her the text to input.  
  
"Thanks," Scorpia says. The door is slow to pull open, its hinges rusty as it opens to reveal a stone-carved corridor. It's a stark contrast to the metal corridor they're leaving behind. To light the way, Scorpia charges a small bolt of lightning in one claw. "Anyway, it took a little while to convince the guards down here that Hordak had retired and the war was over. Some of them were very nasty. Perfuma may have had some very stern words with a few."  
  
"Stern words, meaning...?" Catra's puzzled expression is a stark contrast to the terrified grimace Adora is pulling. Of course, Adora knows what stern words from Perfuma means. She gestures for Catra in a way that succinctly explains. "Oh."  
  
"Yeah... Plumeria's got strict laws on child slavery."  
  
Seeing both Catra and Adora blanch makes Scorpia cringe, but there was no way to sugar coat it. The two exchange quiet words with each other as they continue following Scorpia. The low rumble of a growl comes from Melog as he prowls alongside. The colour of his mane is distinctly red now. They walk in silence for a while, the only words uttered an occasional warning from Scorpia when a trip hazard appears or they're about to take a turn. The place is a maze and Scorpia is constantly checking the schematics on her tablet.  
  
"How..." A gulp. Catra starts again. "How did you figure out there were people still living here? There aren't even any lamps!"  
  
"The Forge..." Scorpia replied. "What got mined down here – sorry, mind the steps down – got sent there by automated cart. They were still getting shipments, even with no one there to collect them."  
  
"I hate this..." Adora mutters as she steps past Scorpia. Her fists are taught and Scorpia once again wonders if she should have let Perfuma handle this instead. Scorpia shakes her head. No. She promised herself. Her claw rests a moment on her bump, and she feels a renewed determination.  
  
The approach a large vault door.  
"Help me with this, Adora, will you?" Scorpia says. The door isn't locked, thankfully, but it's still heavy to open. The two women grunt at their joint effort, watched warily by the glow of their feline companions' eyes. The door leads out from the claustrophobic corridors into a large cavern, illuminated with various veins of blue, red, and gold. Phosphorescent moss grows on large boulders among rubble and debris. Tools lie scattered, abandoned on the floor. Wheelbarrows are turned over; pickaxes and shovels lie in piles. The smell of sulphur attacks their senses and Scorpia hears Catra gag.  
  
"Oops, I meant to warn you about the smell." Scorpia gives the vault door a sharp tug to close it – to keep rats out from the rest of the complex she explains, before pointing to a small structure barely visible in the distance. "We're headed to the tower over there."  
  
It doesn't take long for the sound of scuttering rats to justify Scorpia's caution. Melog starts to chase after them before Catra calls them back. Adora and Catra are both noticeably quiet, inspecting the debris with understandable consternation.

  
The larger space does nothing to make the air feel lighter, quite the opposite. Their steps thud heavily, echoing faintly, as they slowly make their way across loose scree and avoid tripping over jutting stone. It's quiet. It's daunting. Scorpia wishes she were in a mood to whistle. She is not.  
  
The tower is right in front of them before either of them speaks. Its metal construction is distinctively Horde-like, and the large emblem on the side confirms it. The glow of electricity shows that its door still has a functioning lock interface to be reached via a metal staircase. A turret sits menacingly above its domed roof.  
  
"Why are we here Scorpia?" Adora asks. There's steel in her voice. If Scorpia didn't know better, she would have thought She-Ra was speaking.  
  
She turns to face them both, running her claws through her hair. She sighs.  
  
"You’ve clearly got everyone out. This place is deserted." Catra says. She steps up to Scorpia, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "What needed us, specifically, to come here? What do you want us to see?"  
  
"So, um..." Scorpia falters, just a moment, before putting her claw back against her stomach, feeling the unborn life there stir. She rallies. She practiced this. "Among the miners we got out of this place, were a number of orphans... Kids deemed too weak to make good soldiers, children born to some of the miners who since passed away, basically kids with no one to look after them once removed from this place."  
  
"Figures..." Adora's voice is sad as she grabs Catra's other hand, but her gaze doesn't waver from Scorpia's face.  
  
"Perfuma and I managed to find relatives to take a lot of them in, thankfully. Of those that didn't have families outside the mine, quite a few were adopted by older miners anyway. But... Well there's this one kid... Hang on, let me show you." Scorpia pulls out her tablet again, opening the relevant file. There's no image, because of course the Horde mine's records didn't bother with photographic images of its prisoners in the mines, but the text should make Scorpia's thinking clear. Catra takes the tablet and scans through the short profile, Adora reads over her shoulder.  
  
"Finn, born nearly six years ago... Magicat?" Catra's eyes widen. "There was another magicat in the Horde and they were down here?!"  
  
"That's... Oh, wow." Adora's eyes have skimmed down to the kid's rep sheet. Adora's irises flash. If Perfuma hadn't already punished the foremen, She-Ra would certainly have given them a lesson of her own. "They had five-year olds doing what?!"  
  
Scorpia nods solemnly, waiting for them to process the information further. Adora and Catra exchange worried looks.  
  
"There aren't that many Magicats on Etheria," Adora mutters, her brow creased in thought.  
  
"But that doesn't mean all Magicats know each other, Adora." Catra returns the tablet to Scorpia. "Is that why you asked for us? You want me and Adora to find this kid's family or something?"  
  
"Eh... Something like that." Scorpia's pincers tap together once she returns the tablet to her satchel. "I... I think you are their family." She says quietly.  
  
The effect of her words is instantaneous. Catra leaps back in horror as Adora lets out a bewildered laugh. Melog's mane sparks in angry spikes as their hackles raise.  
  
"What like a hidden sibling or something?" Adora sounds incredulous. "I mean that would be fantastic and all, but what would even make you think that? Do they even look alike?"  
  
Oh more than you know, Scorpia thinks but keeps quiet. Her eyes are pinned on Catra.  
  
"Oh you have got to be kidding me. There is no way." Catra hisses. There's that tell-tale twitch in her eye that Scorpia recognises easily. It's the one Catra always had when she was trying to hide something that she felt bad about. Scorpia's heart clenches at seeing her friend so distraught. "The kid is seventeen years younger than me, Scorp'. There's no way!"  
  
Scorpia returns her tablet to her satchel with a sigh. She takes a step on the staircase, waving for the three to follow her up.  
"That's why I brought you all the way down here." She explains. "There's footage here I can't seem to get transferred to the other systems. You'll understand then."  
  
Adora, wide-eyed and bewildered, looks between Scorpia and Catra before giving a dramatic shrug and eyeroll. She takes confident strides towards the steps and is joined by Melog as they climb past Scorpia.  
  
Catra is still. Her eyes are searching Scorpia's face. What for, Scorpia is unsure until she tilts her head. Catra's hand flies to the back of her neck. Scorpia nods, fighting to keep a grimace from her face. The chip, of course... Horde Prime had spent considerable time reviewing Catra's memories for information he could use against She-Ra. The information he shared through his network didn't disappear once Catra's chip was removed.  
  
"Ugh... Let's get this over with." Catra stomps forwards, taking the steps two at a time to reach Adora's side. The blonde gives the Magicat's shoulders a protective squeeze as Scorpia joins them to open the door.  
  
"Right," she says, before taking a deep breath. "Here goes."  
  


* * *


	2. Through the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth is revealed: what was taken, what survived and what was forgotten.

* * *

The surveillance tower's platform is every bit as bleak as could be expected. The door shudders open with a groan once Scorpia inputs the code. The creaking of metal seems to go on forever in the open expanse of the mine, the sound bouncing off the walls and metal pillars holding up the ceiling. Adora shudders, the deep chill of the place biting through her clothes. The dust in the air, the smell, the lack of breeze... It all makes it feel as though she can't breathe right. The overwhelming darkness, even with the phosphorescent mushrooms and veins, isn't enough to stop the cavern from reminding her of another underground complex. Her grip on Catra's shoulder tightens as she half expects the voice of a long-gone hologram to steal her away from her.   
  
It's okay, she forces herself to think, this is not the Crystal Castle. This is Scorpia, our friend, asking for our help. Take a deep breath.  
  
Adora is grateful for her past sessions with Perfuma, learning breathing exercises and mindfulness. It helps settle the shiver running along her spine. She sees Catra taking measured breaths too, her tail wrapped tightly around her leg. Noticing that Adora is looking, Catra pats her hand. Melog purrs from their spot pressed against Catra's other side. Their mane is an uncomfortable shade that matches the downward turn of Catra's expression.   
  
"Hey, you okay?" Adora asks in a whisper. Scorpia's gone into the office and is trying to get the lights to turn on.  
  
"'M fine..." Catra replies. It's unconvincing, but Adora has learnt not to push when Catra gets like this. Adora trusts that she'll come around. A zap of lightning gets the electric circuits buzzing, and the lights flicker on, to Scorpia's relief. Catra tugs Adora forward. "Come on."  
  
The inside of the foreman's office is littered with papers depicting yield graphs and targets. A large map is up against one wall, smaller sheets pinned onto it to represent overlapping tunnels, expansions, and more recent additions in red ink. A chalkboard on a plinth to the side has toppled over and cracked, its writing smudged, leaving only the vaguest impression of numbers and dates. A monitor is up on the wall, in the corner of the room overseeing the desk. Scorpia is leaning over a keyboard, blowing away a thin layer of dust as she tries to get the smaller monitor on the desk to respond.   
  
"Sheesh, this place was well overdue an upgrade back when we were junior cadets." Catra comments, sounding a bit more like herself. She shrugs out of Adora's grasp to go and poke at the screen. "We used to find monitors of this design in the really old junk piles. Remember Adora?"  
  
Adora gives a cursory nod, drumming her fingers on her forearms, trying desperately to settle her nerves. This doesn't feel right. A bump against her leg snaps her out of it. Melog. Adora sighs, patting their head. They seem just as out of sorts as her. Adora smiles, picking up a chair to sit by the desk and keep stroking Melog as Catra and Scorpia get the computer working.   
  
"Nearly there!" Scorpia huffs. Catra clips a cable into the monitor on the wall before the screen crackles to life. An antiquated display props up, showing folder names and a command input box. Catra steps back, seemingly at a loss now that the physical problem to hand has been solved.  
  
"Give me a moment to find the right file. I know exactly which one it is, I just need to..." Scorpia starts typing carefully, one key at a time. Adora can see Catra's claws threatening to unsheathe themselves as she struggles with what to do with herself.  
  
"Catra, hey, why don't you pull up that crate?" Adora points at the box on the other side of the desk. Catra seems about to refuse, but she nods and pulls it close, sitting down on it and leaning her head against Adora's shoulder. Adora's hand finds itself resting on Catra's thigh without even a thought.   
  
With a loud click, the screen brings a copy of the young magicat Finn's file on screen. In addition to the information Catra and Adora have already seen, there's a small box showing supplementary information in the form of linked files: medical records, history of misdemeanours and one marked birth record.  
  
"Was... Was this magicat child born here?" Adora asks, as Scorpia moves the cursor to select the last file.  
  
Scorpia scratches awkwardly at her head, her gaze flitting between Adora and Catra's faces.  
"No." Scorpia says confidently, understanding what Adora meant. "They were born in the Fright Zone infirmary's isolation wing. I... Before I go ahead and show you this... I..."  
  
Scorpia plants the ends of her claws against the surface of the table, pushing herself to her full height. Her eyes soften, her expression a cautious one that Adora doesn't understand. She's focussing on Catra, whose grip on Adora's arm has tightened.  
  
"Catra, this file is a video. It shows Shadow Weaver. I'll understand if you don't want to watch it. I'll understand if you would rather watch it alone. If you don't want me in the room for this, I will understand and respect your wishes." She pauses waiting for a response. "Do you want me to press play?"

  
There's a faint growl next to Adora, but she can't tell if it's from Catra or Melog, or maybe both? She looks at Catra in confusion.  
  
In the harsh electric lighting of the office's one yellow bulb, her tiara gleams, but not as much as her eyes. The blue eye nearest Adora looks teary, but Catra's brow is nothing if not determined. Her fangs flash as she hisses out a reply, her hands holding onto Adora's arm even tighter somehow.  
  
"Scorpia, if this is what I think it is, I'm not going to believe it if I don't see it for myself, and you can bet I'm not watching anything involving that woman on my own." Mismatched eyes turn to Adora. "Are you... Are you okay with this?"  
  
"I..." I'm not exactly sure what this is about, really, Adora thinks, but I want to know. She places her palm on the back of one of Catra's hands and squeezes. "I'm here for you, always. I'm staying."  
  
"Oh-kay. We're doing this." Scorpia hits enter and turns, leaning against the desk for support. Adora's gaze turns to the video.  
  
The screen sizzles with the tell-tale noise of badly chopped and transferred footage. A time and date appear in the corner of the screen as the snow fades out to reveal a top down view of an infirmary room. It's a poor angle, the camera zoomed in, so it only shows the bottom corner of the medical trolley. One of the medics is in scrubs, leaning over the patient who is only noticeable by the faint movement of a foot. They speak in what Adora knows to be medical jargon, though she doesn't recognise all the terms. She frowns, leaning forward. Something about toes and reflexes? And there's a faint wail among the white noise that has her fingers twitching.  
  
"Enough of that jabbering." A voice, unmistakeable, interrupts. A familiar robe and head of black hair floats into view. "Are you done yet, or not?"  
  
Another medic in scrubs steps into view, a wriggling bundle in their arms. Adora realises that this must be the infant Finn. She glances to her left, feeling Catra's hold on her arm shudder at the sight. Her girlfriend looks pale, paler than Adora expected to find her. Why...?   
  
"We need to finish creating a record for the little one." The medic says, forcing Adora's attention back to the screen. "Your cadet's just getting stitched back up. They'll be out of it for a while."  
  
Shadow Weaver's hair does that thing that always snapped Adora to attention. It was often a sign of their mentor's displeasure when it rose like that. The woman leans menacingly towards the medic who, in what a younger Adora might have considered a hilariously ill-advised misinterpretation of Shadow Weaver's meaning, hands the woman the baby.  
  
"What will the baby's name be?" The medic chirps.   
  
"JUST FIN-" Shadow weaver's shout is interrupted when she glances down at the child. Whatever she sees there has her uttering a rather underwhelmed "Oh."  
  
Whatever waffle the medic is away to say in response is lost to Shadow Weaver returning the child to their arms with a tart: "Just finish what you're doing and get rid of _it_. The operations manager in the forge will tell you where." She barges past the flustered attendant to the bed where the surgeon seems to have finished and, more wisely than their colleague, stepped back very promptly. Shadow Weaver yanks the gurney into view of the camera, hissing a name that sends cold dread down every vein in Adora's body.   
  
"As for you, Catra, let this be a lesson."   
  
Adora can't bring herself to move. Her vision narrows to the small square of pixels depicting a much younger Catra on the gurney, seemingly barely conscious. Her ears are filled with a rushing sound. She can't breathe. She's vaguely aware of more words being said. The video finishes and freezes on the final still, Shadow Weaver gripping a younger Catra's arm as she grimaces. A shadow moves between Adora and the screen as she glances down. The knuckles on her fists are stark white. She forces her fingers to relax, herself to take a deep breath. She hears a door shut. The firm grip on her bicep has left, leaving a cold absence behind. Adora turns to Catra.   
  
Catra, she...   
  
"This can't be real, this can't be happening..." Her girlfriend's hands are gripping at her temples, claws flexing in a way that reminds Adora painfully of that first night on Darla, just after she'd got her back. The wild, terrified look is the same. The stuttered, panic-laden words. "She said she... She said they... No. That..."  
  
"Catra...?" Adora asks.   
  
The magicat seems to come back to herself upon hearing Adora's voice. The panic recedes, though it doesn't leave. Adore feels it lingering in how tense Catra keeps her shoulders, her quick short breaths and frazzled tail. It's strange to see her like this without Melog intervening. Where are they? A quick glance around shows no sign of the Krytian. Never mind, because Adora's there. Adora will always be there.  
  
"Are you okay?" She asks, knowing what the answer will be.  
  
"No..." The sound is broken, part sob. Adora opens her arms and Catra tumbles into her embrace. Adora cradles her head against her breast, making comforting noises, stroking her hair, her ears. Each cry tumbling from Catra breaks Adora's heart. The dampness on her shirt fuels an anger that Adora is surprised to feel, but the more she thinks on it, the hotter it burns.   
  
A child... Catra had had a child. Adora glances back at the screen, sees the time stamp, the date. She commits it to memory. Her jaw hurts. She tries to think back...  
  
"She..." Catra starts, tentative, trying to catch her breath and regain her composure. Her hand still shakes as she grips Adora's waist. "Sh-Shadow weaver... She told me the baby died. I didn't... I didn't even..."  
  
Adora meets Catra's gaze as she lifts her head. "I swear... I didn't know. I would've... I could've..."  
  
Gently, Adora shushes Catra, her hands cupping her cheeks. Her thumbs brush at the tears coating her freckles. Adora feels tears of her own clouding her vision. She never wants to see this expression on Catra again. Her girlfriend has felt too much guilt, had too much to make up for, for Adora to let this somehow be added to the pile.  
  
"It's not your fault," she says softly. Catra's brow creases. Adora chuckles sadly. "It's not! Did you ask for that to happen?"  
  
"No!" Catra responds, sharp, like her claws threatening to unsheathe at the very thought.   
  
"Then it's not your fault." It's Shadow Weaver's, Adora thinks, for stealing the child away from you. It's the fault of whoever forced the child upon you in the first place. She feels magic flaring through her, her eyes burning as she wonders how this could've happened without her knowing. "Who was it?"  
  
"Er... What?" Catra is taken aback by the question.   
  
Adora sighs. She knows Catra probably doesn't want to answer the question right now, but the anger welling in Adora's breast overrides all her other concerns. She needs to know. She needs to make this right.  
"Who did that to you?" Mismatched eyes widen in horror as the question sinks in. Adora gestures at the screen. "Who do I need to punch into the dirt? You had only turned seventeen when they were born, Catra. Who forced themselves upon you when you were just sixteen?"  
  
"No one..." Catra hisses. Her hackles are raised, her fangs pressing hard against her lip. She backs away, anger and humiliation flushing her cheeks red. "No one, Adora. I don't..."  
  
"You don't what, Catra?" Adora snaps back. Before she knows it, she's standing, pacing, her arms crossing over her chest, squeezing. She feels ill. "You don't remember? You don't trust that I'll understand? We know how babies happen now, Catra!"  
  
Adora feels an oncoming rant boiling up her throat, but it fizzles out as soon as she sees... Catra's expression. It's not annoyed. It's... Is she...?  
  
Heartbreak. There is no mistaking it. The curve of Catra's brow, the tremble in her lip, she's even got tears threatening to spill from her eyes. Adora feels like they're back in the Heart of Etheria, saying their last goodbyes. It terrifies her.  
  
"What...?" She asks, forcing herself to stand tall, to clasp her hands to her sides. Her voice trembles as she asks. "What is it?"  
  
"You... I suspected as much but..." Catra stands now, reaching to hold onto Adora's arm. "You really don't remember."  
  
The fact that Catra doesn't even phrase it as a question sends fresh shivers down Adora's spine. Her throat dry, she tries to figure out what Catra means.  
"I... I remember that day..." She says, pointing to the date on the screen. "I remember you felt off for months, and then... Sha-... Shadow Weaver said you were in quarantine with Magicat Fever. It was three weeks before I saw you again."  
  
"Yeah, that was an obvious lie." Catra smiles sadly, stroking Adora's arm. "Do you remember our hideout? That storeroom hidden behind the pipes?"  
  
"Of course I do..." Adora huffs, bringing Catra's hand to her cheek.  
  
"Remember when we finally made the grade into senior Cadets?" Catra asks, her tone gentle. There's pain etched across her face.  
  
"I remember kissing you." Adora gasps out. Tears finally spill onto her cheeks.  
  
"You do?!" Catra asks, surprised. Her hand jolts away from Adora's cheek, so Adora grabs it between hers, clasps it to her breast.  
  
"I..." That Adora remembers that now is legitimately surprising, she supposes. She spent the weeks afterward with no recollection of the act. Every time she looked at Catra since then and thought of kissing her had come with a strong queasiness that put short any attempt to enact such a thing. It only went away when... When... "When I first turned into She-Ra, at the battle of Thaymor... I..."  
  
She never really spoke with Catra about it. She probably should have, sooner. She leans her forehead against Catra's, tries to take deep measured breaths. Her fingers shake as she drops Catra's hand and cups her jaw. Catra is visibly refraining from interrupting. She wants to give Adora the time to finish, to explain.   
  
"I felt so out of control, just full of anger against the Horde, because suddenly I... I remembered. I remembered what... What Shadow Weaver had taken from me."   
  
"Adora, what...?"   
  
For all answer, Adora leans her lips against Catra's. A chaste kiss, really, for them, but it's every bit similar to the one they first shared, all those years ago in that abandoned store room, right down to Catra's gasp of surprise.  
  
"Shadow Weaver stole my memory of our first kiss Catra..." Adora turns away, feeling regret. It's not a thought she likes to dwell on. "It's why I couldn't bear to return to the Horde."  
  
"I..." Catra's hands grip at Adora's shoulders. "I didn't realise it at first, but I... I did figure it out, Adora." Adora sniffles as she turns to see Catra's eyes fixed on hers. There's an attempt at a smirk. "It's why I didn't want you to come back after you rescued Glimmer from Shadow Weaver." A huffed attempt at a laugh.  
  
Adora's heart swells with love.   
  
"So..." Catra asks, careful, her eyes watching Adora's face like a hawk. "How much do you actually remember?"  
  
Not much, really, if Adora is honest with herself. She remembers the euphoria at sweet sixteen of finally kissing the girl she liked, of realising that she was kissing her back! And then... She draws a blank. The closest memory she can recall next is of Shadow Weaver, roughly grabbing her arm as soon as she left their storeroom. She remembers the hard metal of the table in the black garnet chamber. She remembers being tied down, fighting it. She remembers that she forgot.  
  
"Just the kiss." Adora replies, frowning.  
  
"Adora..." Catra's got that hitch in her voice again. She steps back, giving Adora space, as though she expects she'll need it. "Adora, we did more than kiss that night."  
  
"Hahaha, what?" There's that faint ringing sound in Adora's ears again. She steps back. "Catra, wha-"  
  
"Adora!" Adora freezes to the spot. Catra's voice is harsh, her face twisted in anguish. "That child is yours. _Ours_."  
  
 _No,_ Adora thinks. _It can't be._ How...? She feels pins and needles prickling across her skin. Her hands clasp around her upper arms as she fights the chills sinking into her bones. She feels the magic of She-Ra stirring, unbidden, through her veins.  
  
"Doesn't... Wou- Wouldn't that have required magical assistance?" The words spill out from Adora's lips automatically. Her thoughts are too fraught to be selective with her phrasing. She knows from talking with the other princesses that same-gendered couples usually need a little help procreating. She can't... She still can't quite process what it is Catra is saying.  
  
"I mean your eyes did do a weird glowing thing when..." Catra's tone is forcibly light. She's trying to defuse the situation with humour, but it doesn't work when her eyes are glistening and her tail's stiff. Catra's eyes go wide. She points at Adora's face. "That. Like that."  
  
The blue glow bouncing off Catra's finger confirms what Adora feels. She-Ra is humming through her skin, making her eyes glow. Adora's consciousness slips away from the room.

  
It's like when she first touched the sword, knowledge spilling forth unbidden into her thoughts. Only this time it's not stars and faceless parents, it's not a hologram calling upon her to fight.   
  
It's like when Prime was invading, after she broke the blade, and she ran herself ragged trying to think of ways to keep everyone safe without She-Ra... And somehow the magic of Etheria provided her with a vision. Only this vision is not of a hidden refuge.  
  
It is hot, and warm, and entirely Catra. It is young love, burning bright and rash, drunk on release from years of build-up. It is...  
  
"Shit." Adora swears as her knees buckle. She remembers. She remembers in vivid colours and intoxicating touches. Twenty-three-year-old Catra is holding her up, but it's her younger self that Adora sees and feels. The heat of proximity, the squeak of a laugh is accompanied by clawed hands reaching under Adora's top. Adora's hands remember reaching previously forbidden territories too.  
  
But it's not the memory of Catra's first gasps and moans by her hand that has Adora's stomach twisting in knots. Nor is it the knowledge that Catra alone had to live through the war with the memory of them being so intimate, that even before then Adora had had enough magic in her veins for their actual first act of love to bear fruit... No.   
  
It's the memory of Shadow Weaver's hand yanking her away as soon as she left their storeroom. It's the recollection that, despite them knowing that their hideout and its immediate surroundings had no cameras, Shadow Weaver had _known_ what transpired. It's the pure rage in her mentor's tone and actions as she used her magic to force Adora onto that blasted table. It's the sheer deafness to Adora's pleas and confusion. It's the fear and hopelessness that Adora felt when she realised what was happening to her, the betrayal.  
  
The glow subsides. Adora comes back to herself, recognises the arms holding onto hers. Her skin is slick with sweat. Her ears are still buzzing. She barely hears Catra as she stands, stumbles to the small washroom door.   
  
By the time her lunch has finished liberating itself, she's on the cold tile taking deep gasping breaths as Catra kneels beside her. Gentle hands run through her hair, sweet murmurs grounding her, like the feel of Catra's body wrapped around her. Adora feels loved, and love blooms through her as she finally grasps what had been taken from her with both hands and breathes.  
  
"You okay?" Catra asks.  
  
Sweet air finally reaches fully into Adora's lungs and she huffs. She looks at Catra, her Catra here-and-now and sees the years they've spent together, free of the Horde. She sees the life they're building together and smiles.  
  
"I will be," Adora replies. She grips Catra's arm and pulls her closer into a hug. "I remember now. Everything. I'm sorry."  
  
"Wasn't your fault..." Catra mumbles into Adora's collarbone.  
  
"Are you okay?" Adora asks, running her hand up and down Catra's back.  
  
"Hmph..." The tension evaporates from Catra's shoulders and she slumps, moulding herself to Adora's side. "I don't know."  
  
They sit in silence for a few minutes, digesting the reveal, their feelings, taking comfort from each other's presence in the quiet.  
  
"So, we're parents, huh?" Adora grins, suddenly smug.  
  
"Adora!" Flustered, Catra leaps up to her feet. Adora falls to the tile with a laugh. "Come on Dumbass, let's get out of here before Scorpia sends in a search party."  
  
It's not what Adora expected from the day, if she's being honest, but... She pushes herself up and dusts off her slacks. By the time she's freshened up, Catra has already turned the monitor off and is waiting for her at the office door.   
  
"I love you," she says, meaning every syllable.  
  
"I love you too," Catra replies, and Adora's world is complete.

* * *


	3. Under the Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It will take time to come to terms with, but really, the answer to the question is not that hard to find.

**Under the Stars**

****

  
Leaving the office feels strange. Catra left Bright Moon that morning expecting whatever Scorpia had found to be something easy, something manageable.  
  
She didn't expect this.  
  
Her stomach is twisted into so many knots, and her heart is alternating between soaring and sinking. Thankfully, Adora's hold on her hand as they descend the stairs is warm and steadying. Scorpia, noticing them, steps up from where Melog has been comforting her and gives them a watery smile, asking if they're alright. Adora answers as Catra relishes Melog bounding up and pushing into her side. Their warmth, the gentle vibration of their purr is welcome. She feels fragile, she hasn't felt this fragile in a long time now. It's scary, because it brings to mind how she felt at her worst, the memory of the hurts she once inflicted on herself and others. It's terrifying, because she realises it's going to take a lot of talking and thinking, and work, for her to feel strong again.  
  
"Let's go, this way..." Scorpia says, pointing away from the path they followed in. "It'll bring us up near the forge, and then we can get you settled in and talk some more." There's gentleness in Scorpia's eyes, and Catra's eyes brim with tears again. She's so grateful, she thinks, for Scorpia. Grateful that she brought them here, even though it hurts, because for all the pain of it, Catra is glad to finally know the truth.  
  
"Thanks, Scorp'," Catra says, her voice rough with emotion. Scorpia just flushes and leads the way.  
  
The nice thing about her emotions being so overwhelming, Catra decides, is that it keeps the complicated thoughts at bay. She feels drained, barely able to acknowledge the thought that finally, Adora remembers, that it wasn't a dream. And the child... They lived? How...  
  
Adora's arm squeezes her shoulders at regular intervals, her other hand holding hers as they make their way through the mine, tunnels, a lamp lit path. Adora is glued to her side the way Melog is glued to her other, and Scorpia chatters away providing anecdotes and commentary that helps keep Catra's thoughts from delving too close to the deep pits she knows awaits.  
  
Catra even finds herself laughing when Scorpia mentions wanting to make an underground transport system in the mine like Entrapta built beneath Dryl.  
"Just how big is this mine?" Catra asks.  
  
Scorpia pauses to think, before pointing in a direction.  
"That tunnel there, Entrapta reckons, goes as far as Scorpion Hill, this one reaches below Horror Hall and there's one further back that leads all the way to Skull Path. It's huge. You could easily go in near the border to Plumeria and come out near the Crimson Wastes."  
  
Adora stutters and stumbles.  
"This mine is as big as the Scorpion Kingdom?!" She exclaims, a note of alarm in her voice that has Catra worried. She feels Adora's fingers tightening their hold on hers. Her shock is shared. If Catra had known about this when she was Commander...  
  
The thought doesn't bear thinking.  
  
Thankfully, they seem to reach the exit Scorpia was looking for before Catra can drown long in thoughts too bleak to dwell on. Adora leaves Catra to stroke Melog's mane as she goes to ask Scorpia something. It's strange, really, to watch Adora reach out for her sword in the darkness of the mine, to watch her transform into She-Ra when there's no fight to be had, no magic to restore...  
  
She glows, brighter than Catra can remember, with a fire that burns radiant as any sun. She-Ra's shining gaze surveys the darkness of the mine before she kneels, planting her blade in the rock below. A storm of colour erupts from the contact point, light leaping and dancing across the walls, filling the tunnels with wave after wave of magic.  
  
Something untwists in Catra's soul. The stale, heavy air lifts, filling with spores of magic that make her sneeze and smile. The oppressive atmosphere, the shadows that had been leeching at their mood from the moment they entered the mine, lightens, and Catra finds herself crying in relief. As the magic fades away, the deathly quiet is replaced with the comforting trickle of water, the dark walls alight with the glow of roots, mushrooms and glow worms.

When they finally step out of the mine into the moss-covered remains of the forge, Scorpia is ecstatic at the transformation Adora gave the mine, and Adora's eyes, though sad, look happier.  
  


* * *

* * *

  
Thankfully, when they reach Perfuma, it's made clear that neither of their hosts expect them to make a decision about the child yet. The only comment made directly on the matter is when Perfuma takes Catra aside to remind her that should she feel the need to talk her feelings out with a third party, she is always available. Catra nods her thanks as she strokes Melog, and is glad to later on see Perfuma take Adora aside with a similar expression. For now, both of them just want to discuss matters unrelated to the issue at hand, and catch up with their friends as they digest the news.  
  
They share a meal in the outdoors courtyard Scorpia has set up around the Black Garnet. She rests her feet on a cushion as she reclines against a wall, Perfuma fussing with some pillows as the various faces, familiar and new of their joint retinue pass around bowls of salad, bread and cold meats. Even Swiftwind is there, with his own large cushion to recline on, happily enjoying a bowl of hay and apples. The mood is joyful and Adora is swiftly roped into telling the tales of their latest space venture, a rumbling Melog happily sprawled across her lap, their tummy full of treats. Catra sits back and smiles, admiring how relaxed Adora is. They've both grown these last two years. Catra couldn't be prouder of the woman Adora is becoming now, with her golden confidence and nerdy excitement about star maps.  
  
It doesn't take long for the melancholy to settle in the pit of Catra's stomach though.  
"Hey Wildcat, you're not providing additional commentary this time?" Scorpia asks from beside her.  
Catra chuckles and shakes her head. She's watched Adora tell the tale enough times at Brightmoon already, besides, she's in one of her quiet moods. She turns her gaze to Scorpia, who's stroking her bump, smiling tenderly at whatever response she's sensing. Perfuma is off to make some herbal tea again, leaving the two in their own bubble of relative quiet.  
  
"Say Scorpia..." Catra hesitates, is away to dismiss her question before Scorpia leans towards her, humming her enquiry. "I... Is it normal to be scared? About... About the parenting thing?"  
  
Scorpia's brows dip in understanding.  
"You know," she says quietly, "I wouldn't have asked you to come here if I didn't think you were up to the task." She nods in Adora's direction. "The both of you... You're great with kids. I remember at our wedding how they were all over Adora, and you were so patient helping me with those baby scorpions the month before."  
  
Catra laughs at that. "I don't think baby scorpions are quite the same thing as a small person, Scorpia!"  
  
"No, you're right... I..." She sits up straighter, her white hair falling over her eyes as she considers her next words carefully. "I... It is scary. To be responsible for someone so small, so vulnerable. Perfuma, she's... She's so relaxed about it all, because she's helped so many of her people through this," - she gestures at her bump, "but I can tell that she's still terrified that something might go wrong. I... I don't know what it was like, for you, back then, but..."  
  
"You don't?" Catra's brow creases. "I thought that was how you knew to look...?"  
  
They're both running their hands over the scars on the back of their necks. Scorpia shakes her head.  
"Only got the briefest glimpse. Most of the time I just try and ignore the flashes. They're few and far between anyway."  
  
Catra nods.  
"Same." She was once worried that the intrusive thoughts from Prime's Hive Mind would never leave her. She's glad she barely gets them anymore. "I... I've never spoken with anyone about what happened to me then..."  
  
The quiet stretches between them, Catra hugging her knees, before words start to spill from her lips seemingly without her permission.  
"I thought I was dying. I... Thought she had cursed me. Shadow Weaver. I thought that was why Adora felt off. Shadow Weaver... She didn't punish me back then." She ruffles the hair above her eyes, looks away for a moment. A passing glance of Adora laughing at something helps her nerves settle and she smiles despite the tears in her eyes. "When Shadow Weaver found me in that vent, I thought she was there to finish me off. I think I passed out from the pain... When I came to, I only..." A hand is on Catra's shoulder. "I only caught the briefest glimpse of the baby. It's only then that it made any sense. I..."  
  
"Come here." Scorpia says, pulling her into a tight one-armed hug. "You're nothing like her, you know? You do know that, right?"  
  
Catra stills. Somehow Scorpia's words cut right to the heart of it. The tears fall steadily now, but she smiles as she returns the hug as tight as she can. "Thanks," she says in a whisper.  
  
"Oh what did I miss now?" Perfuma says as she kneels down beside Scorpia. The pot of tea in her hand smells nice, calming. Both Scorpia and Catra just laugh. The rest of the evening is peaceful.  
  


* * *

  
They fall asleep in a guest room set aside for them, far from their old barracks, with a view of the small lake that formed following the liberation of Etheria's magic. It's high up in one of the few remaining towers, and they whisper quietly to one another, tangled together in their sheets, Melog asleep on the balcony. There are tears, because how could there not be? Adora is still coming to terms with the full extent of the rapt of her memories, and Catra... Well Catra has to explain why she never spoke of it; not to Adora, but to herself... It's good to finally be able to speak with Adora about that traumatic episode of her life, to know, unequivocally, what Adora's perspective on the whole fiasco had been.  
  
They're not dwelling on the what-ifs, because they know full well by now that what-ifs won't help them... But still, when Catra drifts off and starts to dream, she pictures a young Adora, in that old red jacket sitting beside her with the newly born Finn in her arms, smiling at them like they're a whole new world, a second life gifted upon her. It's domestic and sweet and has Catra waking up in a panic when Adora's elbow shoves her out of the bed. She's mourning the idea of Adora nursing an infant, their infant, as she sits up. Blearily she looks at the bed. Adora is sleep fighting, something she's not done in over a year. Shit.  
  
"Adora... Adora!" Adora startles awake as Catra straddles her hips, her wrists trapped in her hands. Her grey-blue eyes are wide as she takes deep, starved breaths, struggling to bring her heart rate down. Catra's hands quickly reach her scalp, stroking the hair there along the edge of her undercut. "Sh... It's okay, I'm here. We're safe."  
  
A heart-breaking sob breaks from Adora as she sits up into Catra's embrace, her arms crossed tight over her abdomen. It takes a few minutes for her to calm, to find her voice and speak.  
"I... I dreamt of my parents..." She whispers into the crux of Catra's neck. And oh, they've spoken about this before. Catra's hands still.  
  
Adora mentioned, once, while they were travelling, how upon finding the sword of Protection, she'd been given a vision, a memory of when she was a baby. It was upon a space ship, looking out through a porthole onto a planet in a sea of stars. She remembered hearing voices, the gentle touch of loving hands, being wanted. Catra remembers how Adora's voice broke when she admitted that that had been the worst part about realising that she'd been stolen as an infant, not abandoned... The idea that somewhere out in the wider universe she once had a family that was left to mourn after her disappearance, that never got the answers they were owed, it stung.  
  
"Do you..." Adora's voice cracks, but her gaze doesn't leave Catra's. "Do you think... Does Finn think we abandoned them?"  
  
Catra takes care to consider her answer, gently rocking with Adora in her arms. She herself has no illusions about what happened to her parents. As a child Adora had found her hiding in a box labelled Apple Sauce. That had been amongst the spoils of a raid brought back to the Fright Zone for Shadow Weaver to inspect. Catra once looked through the Horde's records, found the name of the town that was ransacked back then: Halfmoon, an overwhelming victory with no survivors... She had found a strange comfort in that, knowing that her family hadn't fled and left her behind, but had died protecting her. She didn't approve: after all, they couldn't be there for her if they were dead, but it meant they hadn't given up on her.  
  
They hadn't given up on her.  
  
"Finn is five and a half," Catra said somewhat tartly, poking Adora in the forehead. "They're probably too busy thinking about how best to climb the tallest building they've seen in their short life to worry about whether or not they have a family that wants them."  
  
Adora's grumpy pout has Catra chuckling. "Look, we'll worry about that if it comes up. For now, I..." She glances at the gap between the curtains, the unmistakeable hue of midnight sky glimpsing through, with a tinge of pink on the horizon. Adora's probably got as much sleep as she's going to get. "How about you go see to Swiftwind? You promised him some loop-de-loops didn't you? He'll help you clear your head and we can talk some more when you get back."  
  
Adora maintains the pout for all of five seconds before bowing her head in submission, a muffled "hate it when you're right" coming through before she disentangles herself from Catra's embrace. By the time Adora's thrown on some clothes and given Catra a quick kiss goodbye, Catra finds she's too awake to go back to sleep.  
  
She steps quietly past a still snoring Melog onto the balcony, examines the walls around her. It's an easy climb. She lets out a breath once she reaches the top and takes in the scenery below. It's quiet, peaceful. She looks up to the stars and smiles. She knows what she wants to do now. It feels right. Catra chuckles as she hears Swiftwind's grumbling carried up to her on the breeze, turns to watch him and Adora spin in the sky. Half an hour later she's watching the sun rise with a drowsy Melog yawning at her side. They rumble at her, in that language of theirs that she alone seems to understand.  
  
"Yeah, buddy," Catra replies, leaning over to give them a good belly rub. "I sure did figure it out."  
  
As they descend back to their room, she thinks, for the briefest of moments, that she catches the glimpse of a tail and pointed ears on a rooftop below. It's probably just a trick of the light.  
  


* * *

* * *

  
"You're sure about this?" Adora says, as she holds Catra's hand. They're standing at the doors to the breakfast room where they've agreed to meet with Perfuma and Scorpia. Catra tightens her grip in response.  
  
"Yeah, dummy, I'm sure," she smirks, leans up against Adora's arm in the way that always makes her blush. "Unless you're having second thoughts?"  
  
When Adora got back, they pretty much tripped over each other to say that they wanted to try, for Finn's sake, to be the parents they never had. Of course, they both agreed, it wouldn't happen overnight, and the logistics of it all would take some figuring out, and there was also the real possibility that Finn wouldn't want to come and live with them. By the stars, they weren't even married. But what, in their lives, had ever been straight forward and easy?  
  
"No second thoughts," Adora replied. Magic glows in her eyes and she smiles.  
  
Catra nods. They open the door.  
  


* * *


	4. Shared Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perfuma's insightful perspective as young Finn and Catra and Adora are introduced.

  
It was only six months after Horde Prime's defeat that Perfuma and Scorpia got engaged. Most of their courtship happened in Plumeria, while Scorpia assisted Perfuma in helping her people resettle and rebuild as a nation. The advantage of a peace-loving culture living mainly in tents was that it did not take long for her subjects to get back into the swing of things. By the time they exchanged tokens, affairs in Plumeria were in such good hands Perfuma felt perfectly comfortable leaving her brother in charge. She went to help Scorpia reclaim the lands that were now hers: with the Horde gone and Hordak on Beast Island helping Entrapta reclaim what technology could be salvaged, it was no challenge. The biggest difficulty, really, was in convincing Scorpia that she was the woman for the job.  
  
Perfuma chuckles nervously as she quickly summons a vine. The children playing at the edge of the open drop in the room, currently being done up, are quickly shepherded back to the safe area. All except one...  
  
"Finn... Get down here please!" Perfuma really has to focus to avoid her request coming out as a whine. The magicat child is swinging from a pipe with a bright grin as though there isn't a thirty-foot drop beneath their feet. Perfuma squares her shoulders and takes a deep breath. "Finn!"  
  
Upon hearing her use her scolding tone, Finn drops down with a chastised look that reminds Perfuma far too well of when she scolded Adora for trying to throw a tank. And then they smirk, running off to tag young Pincer. His twin sister, Claw, shrieks. Perfuma shakes her head. Let the children have their fun. Moons above they've been deprived of it for too long.  
  
"Thanks," says Stinger, the older Scorpioni sat beside her. "These kids can be a handful."  
  
"Oh it's nothing," Perfuma answers brightly, sitting down next to the old man. His left arm is lame and his eyesight is failing, but he's still lively despite his years. "You should've seen the Plumerian children during the invasion. We were constantly having to chase after them."  
  
Stinger chuckles drily. Perfuma covers her mouth. It's a bit of a sore topic for Stinger, she finds, mentioning the conflict that he never heard about till long after it happened. Still, he's gracious as he nods towards the clones erecting a barrier in front of the broken walls.   
"You must be glad they came around to the idea of peace."  
  
It's easy, Perfuma finds, talking to Stinger as she keeps the clones right and makes sure the children aren't doing anything dangerous. He's been a true boost to Scorpia in the few months since they first met him, one of the many liberated from that awful mine. His calm aura and sharp mind are clear marks of his time serving as an adviser to Scorpia's grandfather. His knowledge about the aspects of Scorpion law and culture that Scorpia missed out on growing up in the Horde have really helped to give them direction in their rebuilding efforts. Not that Scorpia wants everything to be as it was, far from it, but it helps her understand what the Horde adapted, what her remaining people might expect, and, crucially, helps her determine what she wants for them. With every decision Scorpia makes and explains to her, Perfuma finds herself falling more and more in love. With a smile, she returns to directing the clones along the open edge of the space, Stinger occasionally commenting on a bit of rubble they push aside or whatever game the children switch to.   
  
Stinger starts coughing just as Perfuma catches a brief glimpse of a familiar alicorn. Immediately whatever game the children are playing stops, as the twins sprint to their grandfather's side, worry clear on their features. Perfuma's heart is heavy, knowing why they look so scared. It's how their parents passed away... mere weeks before Scorpia found a way into the mine. Many of the miners had come out with bad coughs and a weakened immune system. With Entrapta and Brightmoon's help, they've been able to give a lot of them the medication and help to recover, but there are still some that feel touch and go at times... Like Stinger.  
  
"It's okay," the old scorpion man squeezes in between coughs. He reaches for the cold tea Perfuma makes for him and takes a greedy sip. The coughs finally abate. "See...?"  
  
Perfuma feels a hand pulling at her dress as Pincer and Claw tackle Stinger in a tight hug. She peers down to see Finn standing quietly beside her, observing the three Scorpioni with a carefully blank expression. Their ears are flat against their dark hair and their tail is wrapped around their ankle. The only indication of their own distress is how tightly they're fisting at her dress, the way their hand trembles. She drops down to her knees and rubs at their back. This child...  
  
They're nervous because they have clearly become very aware of the difference between them and the scorpion children. Finn's foster family in Stinger, Pincer and Claw, cares deeply for them, but it doesn't stop Finn from feeling different, an outsider, even when Stinger calls to them to join in the hug, and does his best to make sure everyone knows Finn's pronouns. Perfuma suspects Finn blames themselves for what happened to Pincer and Claw's parents, though they shouldn't.  
  
It's bad enough that the Horde mine had this child, barely tall enough to reach Perfuma's hip, scrambling down dark holes into possible cave-ins and toxic fumes, but watching Finn put on a brave face like this, it hurts. Perfuma feels surer than ever in her and Scorpia's decision to ask for Catra and Adora. Even if they don't feel up to the task of taking them in, they might be able to provide Finn with the reassurance they clearly need.  
  
"Go to them," Perfuma whispers, a gentle smile on her face. She nods towards Stinger and his grandchildren as Finn's bright blue eyes find hers. They stand taller and nod, before running over on all fours. For all Finn's insecurity, they still care deeply about Stinger, Pincer and Claw.  
  
Perfuma glances back at the sky, catching once again a glimpse of Swiftwind gliding down from the north tower. She smiles, thinking about Scorpia, and hopes.  
  


* * *

* * *

  
Stinger and the kids are resting up in their rooms when Scorpia arrives. Catra and Adora look well, if pale and sad, as to be expected. Perfuma is not a fan of the atmosphere in those mines, that is for sure.  
  
"You should see what Adora's done to the place, honey!" Scorpia whispers in her ear as they hug. "Definitely an improvement."  
  
Catching up with Adora and Catra is, as always since the end of the war, a delight. In the months immediately following Prime's defeat, Perfuma has regularly spent afternoons talking with one or the other, and sometimes both. Some of those conversations were difficult, others surprisingly delightful and heart-warming. She has no doubt that their learning about Finn will lead to more conversations, but there is no rush, and Perfuma is frankly keen to hear about their latest space adventure with Glimmer and Bow.  
  
Adora is busy regaling the new residents of the Fright Zone about a rather amusing diplomatic incident involving Glimmer and Bow and a convoluted dance routine when Perfuma notices Catra looking morose. Perfuma remembers, vaguely, conversations had during Spinnerella and Netossa's baby shower last year, and sees Scorpia giving her a subtle nod.   
  
Of course. Perfuma nods back and smiles.  
"I'm away to get you more tea, Sweetheart. Catra, do you need anything?"   
Catra's eyes have that distant look that she'd sometimes get when she was chewing over a particularly harsh confession. She shakes her head, but Perfuma knows... Scorpia will be there for her when she opens up.  
  
She leaves the courtyard and heads to the kitchens. She could do with a good cup of herbal tea herself. Her mind keeps flitting back to that night where they'd all been invited to Spinnerella and Netossa's home in the newly liberated Talon Mountain. The joyous news of the pair's new arrival had all the couples in attendance thinking of how and when they would like to have children in turn. The free flow of drinks and sugary snacks had most of the attendees in a fun and joyous mood, and Perfuma, freshly enthused at hearing Scorpia's thoughts on parenthood, had maybe been a little bit tactless in approaching a frazzled looking Adora.   
  
Really Perfuma should have seen the signs. She'd just passed a flustered Netossa. Adora was curling in on herself and looking out at the stars rather than arm wrestling Seahawk or cuddling with Catra. Instead she opened her mouth and put her foot right in it by asking if Adora was looking forward to being a mother one day.  
  
The tears had been instantaneous, followed by a rapid rambling that forced Perfuma's scattered thoughts to sharpen reactively. Once she convinced Adora to take a few slow breaths and explain in calm measured words what was going through her head, it finally became clear.   
  
Back then, Adora had been terrified of the idea of becoming a mother... Her only frame of reference for what a good mother was like had been Angella, and that had been brief. With Adora's tendency to anxiously aim for perfection in all things, it had made a surprising amount of sense.   
  
Thankfully Perfuma was able to reassure Adora that she and Catra needn't have children if they did not wish to, and besides, there was no one right way to parent, nor was there a rush. Perfuma even reminded her how many Etherians would comment, upon watching Adora interact with their children, on how good a mum they thought she'd be, but Adora hadn't seemed so convinced by that.  
  
And to think that all the while...  
  
As Perfuma pours water over the leaves into the pot, her mind turns to when she then found Catra, later that same night... Or more accurately, Catra found her. Perfuma remembers looking up from her drink to see the Magicat lurking awkwardly nearby, a morose looking Melog pushing her towards Perfuma. When she asked what was the matter, Catra had sighed and sat down.  
  
"Did you know it took Spinnerella and Netossa over two years to conceive?" She asked, her voice wobbling as she stroked Melog's back.   
  
Perfuma had been surprised, but not stunned.  
"I knew they'd been trying for a while. I didn't know how long." Perfuma frowned. "Why does this trouble you?"  
  
Catra sat working her jaw for a while, her eyes struggling to focus on any one thing in the room until they found Adora, sat chatting at the opposite end of the room with Juliet and Castaspella.  
  
"I... I think Adora and I... Maybe one day? I think we could be interested... In having kids, maybe, but I..." Catra's hand reached for the back of her neck. Her face took on a scowl that Perfuma recognised from their conversations about Shadow Weaver and Horde Prime. "I'm not convinced I wouldn't mess things up... But... With Adora, Sparkles and Bow, and the rest of you guys at our side, I know we'd be okay. I'm just worried that..." A gulp, some tears threatening to spill from her eyes, Catra continues. "I'm worried that even if we were to try, we couldn't. I think... I think something happened to me, maybe on Prime's ship, or maybe before, that would... Well... Make it impossible."  
  
Perfuma remembers how her heart panged hearing that. It was one thing to choose whether or not to become a parent, another entirely to have that choice taken from you.  
"Have you spoken with the healers about this?" Perfuma had asked, placing a hand on Catra's arm. "With Adora?"  
  
With a sigh, Catra placed her hand over Perfuma's and shook her head.   
"I'll... I'll speak with a healer, but I..." Melog rumbled when Catra hesitated. "I don't think I can speak with Adora about it. Not unless she brings it up first. I don't..."  
  
"Adora loves you, Catra," Perfuma reminded her. "Trust that she'll support you in this."  
  
"It's not... Never mind." And then, in that clever and sharp way that Catra has, she changed the conversation to talking about Perfuma and Scorpia's then imminent wedding.   
  
Ever since meeting Finn, these two conversations have been on Perfuma's mind. There's still a lot she doesn't know, and it's probable she'll never know the whole story... But she's glad the pair have the choice now, even if it's not in the manner they would have hoped, even if it implies so much more pain in their past left to untangle. Perfuma knows that whatever choice the couple make, it'll only help them grow.  
  
The pot of herbal tea is ready. She returns to the courtyard, her thoughts drifting to Scorpia, to the new life she and Scorpia are bringing to the world... They got lucky, she knows, to have reached this stage so swiftly.   
  
If later that night, when they're cuddling and Perfuma is helping to massage Scorpia's sore feet, she thinks to ask, she is satisfied when Scorpia replies: "Yes. She did talk to me. Boy did she need to let that one out."  
  
Scorpia leans over and pulls Perfuma to her side, placing her hand on the bump, to feel their little one move. Scorpia's voice starts to sing a whispered song into her wife's ear. The baby kicks, and Perfuma smiles through joyful tears.  
  


* * *

  
Perfuma gets up early in the mornings. As part of her mindfulness routine she starts the day off with some outdoor meditation, and lately she's been checking on some of the other residents to see if they want to join her. Heart Blossom knows, Scorpia needs the extra rest. She's away to knock on Stinger's door to see if he and the kids would like to join her when she spots the sway of a blond tail on a roof ledge. Her hand stills, and she tilts her head. The dawn is just starting, the Fright Zone's sky turning from a deep purple to red as the sun rises, a small bank of clouds rolling in from the south.   
  
There's still a couple of stars out. The small head of dark hair with pointed ears is tilted up towards them. The tail is swaying lazily, but there's a tension to the child's shoulders as they hug their knees to their chest. Perfuma's heart melts. She summons a small vine to lift her up so she can lean against the roof ledge by their side.  
  
"You're up early," Perfuma says quietly, looking up at the brightest group of stars above them. There's a group of four that she remembers Adora giving a name. A Constellation, was it?   
  
Finn glances at her before turning back to the sky. They look thoughtful.   
  
Finn is so loud, Perfuma thinks, when they are playing, that she sometimes forgets how quiet they can get. They're like Catra in that.   
  
"Do you like looking at the stars?" She asks.   
  
"Stars?" Finn asks, their blue eyes confused as they turn to her, finally engaging. Perfuma smiles.  
  
"The lights in the sky. What did you think they were?" Perfuma's tone is gentle, inquisitive. She just wants a window into the many thoughts clearly tumbling through the young Magicat's head.  
  
"They're like the glow worms from the ceiling." Finn says with a smile. "Claw found one that fell. She showed me. I said I would climb up and grab one myself!"  
  
Perfuma laughs. "And did you?"  
  
"No..." Finn pouts, crossing their arms as they stretch their legs out. "The adults never let me climb that high." They wistfully glance at the towering building nearby.  
  
"Let me guess, you want to catch a star and show them?"  
  
Finn's alert tail and enthusiastic nod has Perfuma charmed. So much optimism. It is a testament to the Scorpion people's positive influence.  
  
"They are a lot further away than they look," Perfuma says carefully, taking care to put on a thoughtful pout. "I hear it takes weeks just to reach the nearest star."  
  
"Weeks?!" Finn cries out, leaping onto all fours. They lean back, suddenly suspicious, their tail lashing behind them. "Wait, how do you know? Are you lying?"  
  
Perfuma shakes her head. "I'll have you know," she grins, "I have friends who travel through space!"  
  
"What's space?"   
  
Honestly, Perfuma should've expected that question. She tries not to hesitate too long. It's not a concept she's particularly comfortable with.  
"It's the space between the clouds above us and the stars. It's very big."  
  
"Can you take me?" Finn leaps to her side, practically vibrating with excitement.  
  
"Oh I'm not going to space!" Perfuma shudders at the thought. "But..."  
  
"Hm?" Finn's face is very close to hers, eager for a reply.  
  
Perfuma pushes off the roof ledge to answer.  
"My friends might take you there. One day. Maybe."  
  
"Really?" Finn seems startled. It's... Not that surprising really, When Perfuma thinks about it. Going off on proper adventures in the mine won't have been a common activity, let alone with people Finn doesn't know.  
  
"You'll have to ask them yourself." Perfuma starts to lower herself to the ground. "Now why don't you tell me why you weren't asleep?"  
  
There's an irritated mumble as Finn leaps off the roof to the ground. Perfuma has never seen a child so sure on their feet.  
  
"What was that?"  
  
They stand straight and brush their hands down their top to remove some dust, grumbling a little at having to repeat themselves.  
  
"I... Had a dream. A bad dream. Looking at... stars? It helps."  
  
For a moment, Perfuma wonders if she should tell them... But no, she cannot get their hopes up when Catra and Adora haven't made their decision yet. She drops down to their height though, and squeezes their shoulder.  
  
"You are very brave, Finn." Perfuma says. And she means it. They're so independent and strong for one so young, and so positive and resilient despite the harsh conditions they've been growing in. It's hard not to see the blood in them that they share with two of the bravest people she knows, but this valour is all Finn.  
  
She hopes Catra and Adora will get to see it for themselves.  
  


* * *

  
Perfuma is absolutely delighted, at breakfast, when Catra and Adora trip over each other to agree to look after Finn. They obviously point out that they'll need time to adjust, and a lot of guidance, but Scorpia anticipated that. Perfuma goes to fetch Stinger, leaving the kids under a grumpy Grizzlor's care as they swarm a preening Swiftwind. The Alicorn delights in the attention of children who've never seen a horse before, let alone one with a horn or wings.  
  
When Stinger enters the room, both Adora and Catra stand, bowing slightly as he comes in. Stinger laughs when he's close enough to see, and waves at them to sit down. The two are clearly nervous, but Stinger is quick to put them at ease.  
  
"My name's Stinger," he says simply. "You must be..." His claw hovers between the two, before accurately pointing at each one in turn. "Adora, and Catra: heroes of the rebellion and, I'm told, probably the stunned parents of a certain adventurous magicat currently in my care."  
  
He settles in the chair, nods his thanks to Perfuma as she gives him a mug of warm tea, and waits, a warm smile on his face, for the others to speak. Perfuma sits next to her wife, Scorpia giving her a quick peck on the cheek. Adora and Catra look at each other meaningfully. Catra leans forward.  
  
"Scorpia says you've been Finn's main guardian?" Catra asks, her words strangely stilted. Perfuma feels Scorpia squeeze at her shoulders as they watch the exchange. Stinger nods. Catra looks a blink away from tearing up. She bows her head. "I... Thank you. Thank you for being there for them when... When I couldn't be. We couldn't be."   
  
"We don't want to do this if Finn doesn't want to," Adora says, her voice strong, though her hand on the table shakes. "Scorpia told us... She told us you were hoping to find someone who could keep up with Finn, that you felt they were itching for something more than you could offer. Could you..." Adora's voice cracks, Catra's hand finding hers on the table. "Could you tell us more about them, please?"  
  
Perfuma hears Melog chirp as they leap onto Catra's lap. Perfuma leans against Scorpia, settling in for the tale she's heard before, but is keen to hear again. Stinger's voice is gruff as he explains how he came to look after Finn, his daughter nursing the new-born infant alongside her twins, their father working twice as hard in the mine to guarantee them sufficient rations, as Stinger recovered from the injury that robbed his left arm of all motion. He tells them of a toddler Finn, who would squeeze themselves into the smallest cracks and pounce on whoever walked past. He tells them of Finn's first words, how proud they were when they first got to help with the mining. Stinger tells them with a broad smile of when Finn starts pranking the Horde overseers, stealing rations to help the less fortunate and creating diversions with a skill and glee that he'd seen in no other four-year-old.  
  
Catra and Adora listen with wide eyes and rapt attention. There's the odd gasp or sound of disbelief, and meaningful looks shared at an anecdote that is somehow meaningful to them. Unquestionably, there are tears as Stinger tells of how his daughter and son both fell ill, two of the many caught in a mine collapse that left those not crushed with rapidly worsening coughs. The look of dawning horror on Catra's face as Stinger needs to, once again, interrupt the narrative for a short coughing fit and sip of tea, has Adora standing from her chair.  
  
"Adora, what...?" Perfuma's question is answered with a glowing magical call, and soon it is She-Ra standing in front of Stinger, reaching across to tenderly grab hold of his pincer. His eyes are wide as he takes in her appearance. It was one thing to be told that in his absence from the surface, She-Ra had returned. It was another to see it for himself.  
  
"Let me...?" She-Ra asks, reaching a hand out to touch his cheek, a golden light pouring out from her touch.   
  
Stinger's laboured breathing eases, and he stands in turn. There's awe in his voice, now free from its distinctive rattle.  
  
"So it was true... She-Ra did return."  
His left arm remains lame, but his voice, though reverently soft, has gained a depth and strength Perfuma has never heard from him before. The white shadow on his irises has lifted, allowing his gaze to sharpen as he looks around the room.   
  
"We're... I'm... I am so sorry we never got you out of that mine sooner." Catra's words are soft, but intense. She's standing too, now, her arm resting on She-Ra's back.   
  
Stinger laughs. "It's... You're alright..." He seems surprised, but relieved. He ruffles his greying dark hair, before leaning forward to grasp the two in a tight one-armed embrace. She-Ra shrinks back down into Adora, and Perfuma and Scorpia find themselves joining the group hug as Catra squeaks.  
  
"You're alright." Stinger repeats. "Let me talk to Finn."  
  


* * *

  
When Finn walks into the room after lunchtime, with Stinger at their side, their eyes are wide and uncertain. Perfuma feels her pulse thundering like the storms that come and go so quickly in the Fright Zone. Scorpia's arm is a supportive presence at her back, even though she is already tearing up. They both want this meeting to go well.  
  
Catra and Adora instantly still when Stinger and Finn enter the room. Melog however...  
  


  
"Aah!" Finn lets out a delighted squawk as the Krytian pounces them, rubbing their cheeks against Finn's as they sit back up.  
  
"Melog won't hurt them," Catra says with emphasis when Stinger, alarmed, looks up to her. Her face is flushed, but Perfuma sees a smile slowly blooming there. It is Adora, unexpectedly, who seems to be instantly in tears.  
  
Scorpia clears her throat, stepping forward to carefully kneel at Finn's side as an embarrassed Catra pulls the large cat away.   
"Finn, these... These are your parents, Catra and Adora."  
  
Finn's eyes snap to Stinger, their brows raised as they swivel their head back and forth.  
  
"Are you Perfuma's friends?" Finn asks as the pair come to kneel beside them in turn. Perfuma has to cover her mouth, remembering their chat earlier that morning.  
  
"We are," Adora confirms, gazing in awe at the child. There's no fear there, as Perfuma momentarily feared there might be. She's reminded of new Plumerian parents as they meet their new-born for the first time. It's the same look she remembers seeing on Netossa and Spinnerella's faces as they introduced their daughter Misty to their friends: utterly charmed.  
  
Finn leaps to their feet and squares up to the two women in front of them, crossing their arms meaningfully as they appraise them.  
  
"We're here to ask..." Catra's voice hitches, though she is still definitely smiling. If Perfuma had to pick a word to describe her expression, it would be enamoured, possibly relieved. "Finn, would you like to come and live with us?"  
  
Finn tilts their chin, tapping it dramatically as they consider their response. Scorpia's eyes twinkle as she grins at Perfuma. It's always a delight when Finn chooses to be dramatic.  
  
They drop their hands to their hips and lean forward.  
"Will you take me to the stars?" They stage-whisper.  
  
"Yes," Catra and Adora say together, neither missing a beat. Startled they glance at each other then smile. "Of course, we will."  
  
With a shout Finn leaps at their necks, hugging them tight, the way only someone raised by Scorpion people can. "Yeay!" they cry.   
  
"I take it that's a yes," Stinger chuckles, helping Perfuma to get Scorpia back to standing.  
  
"Definitely," Perfuma says. Her cheeks are already stretched from how hard she is smiling.   
  
It takes a couple of weeks to get everything in order. Glimmer and Bow in Brightmoon are informed of the need to help accommodate Finn via tracker pad, leading to the pair instantly appearing in Scorpia's office, Glimmer insistent that they get told everything in person. Finn spends most of that week literally leaping off the walls of the Fright zone in excitement as they get to spend a few more days playing with Pincer and Claw while also getting to know Adora and Catra. When finally, they say goodbye, it is made quite clear that there will still be plenty of opportunities to see their grandpa' Stinger, the next visit already planned.  
  
The first few weeks, from what Perfuma hears, are a little rough and tumble. Brightmoon introduces the concept of schooling to Finn, which confuses them and has Adora spiralling until Bow explains in quite clear terms how the education on offer differs from the Horde's. Finn makes friends rapidly and easily, and where the classes require quick thinking and counting, they excel quickly... When they're not busy skipping with a rebellious Melog's help. Catra relates all this to Perfuma via video-call, a welcome distraction from Perfuma's own anxieties as Scorpia's due date draws nearer and nearer. Her own thoughts fixating on her own impending motherhood, it occurs to Perfuma to ask.  
  
"Hey, Catra," She pauses as the Magicat's eyes focus on her camera again.   
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"How are you finding being a mother?"  
  
Catra's smile is wide and bright. In the background Perfuma can see Adora entering the room with Finn sitting on her shoulders, giving them a wave.  
  
"Better than I could ever have imagined," comes the reply.  
  


* * *

  
**Fin**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried something different with this story than my usual - any concrit is highly valued.
> 
> And thanks so much for reading. <3


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